


I'll Keep Coming

by siegnerd



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, its just self-indulgent pwp okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siegnerd/pseuds/siegnerd
Summary: Kiran and Ephraim bang in the war room. That's it, that's the story.
Relationships: Ephraim (Fire Emblem)/Reader, Ephraim/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	I'll Keep Coming

**Author's Note:**

> happy new years. here's some ephraim porn because the brainrot is real. title from low roar, its also a bad pun.
> 
> "i'm a easy girl. he's hot, i roll."

_"Ephraim!"_

There's a heavy thump as your back hits the wood of the tactics table, carved wooden pieces and maps scattering carelessly to the stone floor. The table legs creak as you feel him press between your thighs, the tight grip of his fingers on your hips. The bruises under his eyes, belying his carefree smile, as he leans in to kiss you harder.

"Off," you tell him, sliding your hands up the metal of his armor.

Quickly tracing the gilded designs' craftsmanship, you rest your hands firmly on his shoulders before reaching around, unfastening his pauldrons. Your fingers nimbly navigate the buckles from memory, as his mouth grazes the side of your neck. He groans as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer into you and his own hands map your skin roughly. No other words are exchanged as his other hand knives between folds of fabric, impatiently searching for the fastenings but there is a sense of urgency as he pulls at the fabric almost hard enough to tear, and you gasp when chilly Askr air touches your bare skin followed by his touch.

It's fleeting though, because once he's found his own prize he removes his hand, biting into the worn leather of his gloves. Pulling each digit out of its confines sensuously, his eyes meet yours as he drops one glove onto the ground and moves on to the next one, the bracelet around his wrist carefully undone and set on the table next to you both.

"Not just a quick lay in the war room then," he finally says, teal eyebrows arched almost challengingly.

"Wellllllllll…" you trail off, considering. "We might need to speed things up just a bit."

He pulls back and lets out a short bark of laughter, appraising you for a moment as you move back to what you started on his pauldrons. Unfastening his heavy cape, it falls to the ground with the other pieces of finery and his eyes sparkle as he helps you, finally taking off the last bit of armor himself and tossing it behind him with less finesse and grace befitting someone of his standing. Grabbing the back of his tunic, he sheds it efficiently, upper body now bare for your perusal. Running your hand over the scarred flesh of his chest, you map his newer injuries, cataloging them in your mind and differentiating them.

Ropey scars from fights long since passed in Renais. Shallow knife cuts in Embla that pierced between gaps in armor. A stellate scar of at least one arrow finding its mark and having to be healed shortly after on the battlefield under your watchful eyes.

"So many fights," you murmur as your fingers dance over his pectorals, his abdomen, ghosting along the hem of his pants. Dipping just below, he inhales sharply as you scrape blunt fingernails against his sides and the noise is as delicious as any fine wine.

"And I won them all."

The words are said against your jaw, you can feel his brighter than sunshine smile pressed against your skin.

“Stop gloating,” you scoff, though you're not surprised by the cocky reply. This is the second youngest, and most headstrong version of the legendary prince of Renais, the one you've known the longest since coming to Askr. The one who has been by your side through your entire journey, the one who has vowed to protect you since.

As you undo the laces to his pants and free him, he effectively does shut up.

“Get to it.”

If he acknowledges your own readiness, he says nothing. You feel a finger gently pushing instead, testing, probing as you lock eyes and shudder beneath him. Teasingly, he circles before pushing in again, and you let out a moan that has him chuckling darkly. Sliding his fingers out of you, he strokes his cock a bit before spreading your entrance. Doesn’t ask as he eases in, groaning as he meets little resistance, though the sharp thrust of his hips meeting yours is uncomfortable enough you wince, gritting your teeth.

He stops immediately. It's been a while and while he isn't huge, he's endowed enough to know to take this particular bit slowly with you.

"Sorry," he replies, completely unapologetic. His blue eyes are still sparkling with mischief as he covers your neck with kisses, licking until he meets the corner of your jaw. You whine as he nips gently, the tension finally draining from your body.

"Can I?"

Nodding in reply, he moves closer, directly on top of you now. Placing an arm above your shoulder bracing himself, his other lifts your hips off the table to meet his and he thrusts shallowly this time. The fleeting pain turns to pleasure as he continues and you get lost in the moment, not even realizing he's picked up tempo until the telltale sound of the table beginning to scrape against the floor with his thrusts fills the room.

Ephraim fucks like he fights, roughly and with every ounce of himself into it, holding back only when he stops chasing the heady feeling of his own release. The sound of flesh against flesh echoes against the walls as you moan because of the toe-curling firm pace, the feeling flirting on the edge of pain, as he seeks to remember and reclaim your body thoroughly since your absence.

And with how long you have been gone this time, he is being quite thorough.

"Oh fuck, Kiran, I'm close—"

You don't let him continue speaking, teeth grazing his adam's apple and he shudders as you bite down, just enough to feel a hoarse moan fight its way up. He slams once, twice more into you before you feel his hips stutter and then stop. Resting on his forearms, his sweat mingles with yours as you swipe a clump of teal hair from his forehead, fingers brushing through his locks and he closes his eyes and smiles, leaning into your touch. This close you can see underneath the post-coital flush the smattering of freckles on his nose that have dulled with age, barely-there constellations in a pale sky. You want to kiss each and every single one of them as he catches his breath, cock still twitching inside of you, but reality is finally setting in.

The insides of your thighs chafe from the friction against his belt and remaining armor. Your ass is stinging pins and needles against the hard surface of the table. The position you're both in is awkward with him hunched over you, trying to make the best of a surface at a height clearly not designed with coupling in mind.

“Missed you,” he mumbles, lifting himself off of you.

Struggling to catch your breath, you gasp as he presses his thumb on your clit, circling it. He continues until you’re a complete mess, shuddering underneath him. Firm and warm against your sweaty skin, he stays inside of you even after he's spent, now only half hard and overstimulated. You know this won’t take long, you were so close earlier, as he speeds up the motions of his hand and you grip his shoulders tight enough to leave half-moon welts in his skin with your nails.

"Come for me."

A command.

It suits his voice. The years of being brought up as royalty, as a leader. The lack of hesitation in his voice even now, after his own release.

"Kiran," he leans over, whispering into the shell of your ear. _“My queen.”_

You shatter with a final hoarse scream of his name.

 _Yes, he's going to make a fine king one day,_ you think to yourself hazily, as he pulls out and you no longer feel his weight so heavily against you. His lips meet yours in a kiss that conveys more emotion than any words, the love and longing he could never properly express for you, as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gently scrapes it. Opening his mouth to you further, the mood quickly turns again, as his hands run through your hair, skate over your shoulders, cup your chin, grip your hips.

He's everywhere and it's amazing.

You’re both interrupted from your renewed round of groping when you hear a gasp from the doorway on the other side of the room. Covered in sweat and cum leaking onto the table between your thighs, you crane your neck to catch Alfonse stammer out a quick apology.

“A—apologies, summoner. Ephraim.”

The blush is high on his cheeks as he averts his eyes from the scene in front of him. The mess of books and scrolls on the floor, the partial state of undress you're both in. It isn’t until you hear the heavy thump of the wooden door closing you relax again.

"Let's not wait so long next time," you groan, buying your face in Ephraim's shoulder as he laughs, his spear-calloused hands still holding onto your naked hips. "You've made me indecent before the meeting."

Ephraim shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "You were the one who said to me—last time, might I add— that the first time we were in this room together you wanted me to bend you over this table the moment we started talking field tactics.”

“Scandalous. How improper of past me.”

“I know you’ve thought about it ever since."

"Smartass…" you mutter, as the prince turns a bit, pulling up his pants and re-lacing them.

"Mmmmm, I do have a pretty cute ass," he replies, regarding his now fully clothed posterior.

"Cheeky too," you add, rolling your eyes.

As you fiddle with the buttons of his tunic, he smiles down at you, tucking errant wisps of hair behind your ears before pulling your hood back around your shoulders and over your head. You don’t miss him refastening the ornate gold band besides you to your wrist, the weight of it heavy and cool against your skin like a promise.

"Think we scarred Prince Alfonse?”

You both erupt into new waves of laughter, as you hear voices outside the now firmly shut and locked door grow louder.

**Author's Note:**

> yep, this is how eph fucks. you're welcome.  
> comment if you want more.
> 
> find me @siegnerd on twitter.


End file.
